


The Rhythm of the Rain

by PotatoButt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kisses, M/M, Slice of Life, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoButt/pseuds/PotatoButt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo has always had this habit of kissing Kenma. Never on lips, but more of a “let me kiss it and make it better,” sort of kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rhythm of the Rain

Kuroo has always had this habit of kissing Kenma. Never on lips, but more of a “let me kiss it and make it better,” sort of kissing. It began when they were childhood friends; one afternoon was spent tossing a volleyball back and forth, until Kuroo grew bored and decided to chase Kenma around. In the end, Kenma tripped and scraped his knee. He whined but didn’t cry, because that would have been embarrassing. Kuroo got him a big bandaid, though, sticking it over the scrape, before leaning over it and giving it a light kiss. “That makes it feel better.” He had told Kenma, grinning.

Since then, it has been a usual thing. Kenma isn't hurt often, but when he is, Kuroo is right there to fix him up, and give him a kiss on whatever was hurt, whether it be a scuffed elbow or a hangnail. Kuroo once even kissed Kenma’s palm after he suffered a hand cramp caused by too much video games.

Usually, Kenma doesn’t mind Kuroo’s kisses. They are typically discreet, and no one usually notices. Kenma is sure, though, that Yaku saw Kuroo kiss his fingers after having stubbed them against a spiked ball. The usual insecurity had bubbled in Kenma before he yanked his hand away, returning to practice. 

Kenma finds himself remembering these times in the middle of a match, as he watches a member of the opposing team get their finger splinted by another teammate. Of course, he doesn’t kiss his teammate’s finger when he’s done wrapping it; he simply smacks the blocker on the shoulder with an encouraging smile. Kenma forgets it soon enough, having to tune back into the game. They win that match, and they're done for the day. 

They won’t have another game for a couple more weeks, but their coach has arranged another practice match with Karasuno, since both teams have been working on new attack combos and defenses.

Kenma is already warmed up with the rest of Nekoma when he hears Karasuno arrive, alerted by Shouyou’s boisterous yells. After some mingling, they put on their practice jerseys and start the game. Kenma’s serve is first.

The game progresses fast, as Karasuno’s attacks have definitely matured. Kenma, though, makes quick work of analyzing and problem-solving, finding their weak spots. It nears the end of the first set in Nekoma’s favor, and Shouyou’s scary setter is up to serve. Kenma knows his serves are powerful, and bound to land anywhere, so his body is tight, ready to move wherever he needs to.

Kageyama serves, hard, and the ball is speeding at Kenma. He has almost zero time to react, and suddenly the ball is colliding with his face. Luckily, the ball stays in play as Kenma is knocked down, hand clutching his face. He hears Kageyama shout a generous apology. After they score the point, they stop for a second.

Kuroo walks over to Kenma, a concerned look on his face, hand stretched out to help Kenma up. “You okay?” He asks. Kenma nods faintly, hand on his stinging cheek. He’d managed to turn his head so the ball didn’t hit his nose. Once Kenma is on his feet, Kuroo is inspecting the injury, fingers lightly tracing the lines left by the heft of the ball. Kenma’s heart accelerates. They are in public, Shouyou and all of Karasuno is right there, and he knows exactly what Kuroo is about to do. Words die in his throat as Kuroo leans down, pressing his lips too casually against Kenma’s cheek. Heat floods through Kenma's arteries. “All better,” Kuroo grins. Kenma bristles, and turns on his heel, sure he is blushing, and sure that everyone is staring, his own team included.

Back in position, Kageyama offers another apology, but Kenma waves it off. He’s fine, except for the burning mortification in his chest.

After the game, Shouyou deals the final blow of embarrassment to Kenma. He doesn’t mean to, and Kenma knows that it’s just Shouyou’s innocence that causes him to have no filter. 

“Kenma, hey, why did Kuroo kiss you?”

Kenma’s eyebrows twitch, “He… He says it heals. Like kisses make it feel better.” Kenma explains.

Shouyou nods, a figurative light bulb turning on in his head, “Ooooh yeah! Like a mom or sibling would! When my sister gets hurt my mom kisses her too.”

Kenma turns back to the ball hamper, “Mm, just like that.” He feels an off tug in his heart. He hadn’t realized, but he’d lost that meaning to Kuroo’s kisses. Over the years it had felt less and less like a nurturing gesture, and especially now that Kuroo has kissed Kenma’s face.

On their walk home, Kenma musters some courage to chew Kuroo out a little. “You can’t kiss me like that in front of everyone. They’ll talk.” Kenma’s voice is flat, drawing a composed demeanor when in reality he is a bit rattled.

Kuroo glances over, an innocent look on his face, “Oh? I didn’t even think about that.” 

“Well I do.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo says softly, putting a hand on the top of Kenma’s head. Kenma knows he means it.

Kuroo doesn’t kiss Kenma’s face for over a year after that, mainly because he has no reason to. He graduates high school and goes to university. It’s when he’s leaving, when Kenma is helping him put certain items into boxes, that Kenma realizes that he is really going to miss Kuroo. As bothersome as Kuroo can be, Kenma is going to miss him too much. Following this, is the realization that Kenma is maybe, most definitely in love with Kuroo.

Kenma says nothing though, simply tapes a box of clothes shut, before scribbling a label on it. He can’t say anything. Kuroo is his best friend, and that would be weird, and Kenma doesn’t want to be weird. 

Kenma keeps it bottled up for a few months, until the first match of the new school year. They win, easily, but it’s not the same. Kuroo isn’t there to give his usual, cheesy and terrible, pre-game speech. Kuroo isn’t there to pat Kenma on the back after a particularly good kill. Most importantly, Kuroo isn’t there to kiss Kenma’s knee after he gets a floor burn from a tough receive. Lev had bounded over to help Kenma up, making sure he was okay, but it wasn’t the same.

At home, Kenma puts a bandaid over the red skin after his shower, and sits on his bed. His hand-helds sit beside him, forgotten. He bends his knees to his chest, leaning against his wall. It’s a feeling of loneliness that suddenly washes over him. He doesn’t expect it, isn’t prepared for it. His gut twists, and he feels a lump in his throat. He tells himself that it would be stupid to cry, but that doesn’t seem to help. His eyelashes are wet anyways.

Kenma isn’t really crying, just like misting isn’t raining, but it’s still wet. His phone buzzes twice on the bed next to him, but he ignores it. It’s probably Lev bugging him for a critique on today’s performance. Kenma doesn’t want to think about today. He just thinks about how Kuroo isn’t there, and how his knee still hurts because Kuroo hasn’t kissed it.  


 Some time passes, and Kenma’s phone is buzzing again. This time, it’s making longer vibrations, and Kenma knows this to mean he’s getting a phone call. Sighing, Kenma picks up his phone, blinking his eyes clear of mist to read the caller-ID. In pixelated letters, the screen reads “Incoming call: Kuro.”

His heart does something weird in his chest when he answers the call, holding the phone to the side of his face. He hears Kuroo breathe. “Kenma.”

“Mm.” Kenma responds. His throat fails for words.

“Hey, I just thought I would call since you hadn’t answered my text…”

“Oh,” Kenma sniffs, “Sorry, I didn’t look at it yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to know how today’s game went.”

Kenma pauses for a long time, “It’s different.”

Kuroo laughs lightly, “Yeah, it’s always a bit different with first years.”

The two of them are quiet for some time, until they try to talk at the same time.

“Kuro, I,”

“Ken- Oh sorry, go ahead,” Kuroo urges. Kenma has curled up even tighter, feeling explicitly small and too vulnerable. He shouldn’t feel this way with Kuroo. Kuroo is his best friend. “Kenma?”

Kenma doesn’t know how to tell Kuroo that he misses him. That he loves him.

“My knee hurts.” Kenma says it so quietly he’s not sure if Kuroo can hear him. “I scuffed it on the floor.” He wonders if Kuroo can hear how tight his voice is, or hear the tears that have pooled in his eyelids.

“Kenma? Are you okay?” Kuroo finally asks, and his voice is so thick with worry that Kenma can imagine exactly what he looks like.

Kenma bites his lip, shaking his head as if Kuroo could see him, “Mm-mm.” He’s feeling hot mortification burn down his neck, like any other time he showed any sort of emotion.

“Just hang in there, Kenma.” Kuroo tells him, and Kenma refrains from rolling his eyes. It doesn’t suit the moment.

“Okay,” Kenma breaths through tight lungs. He faintly registers some shuffling and a zipper in the background.

“Text me okay? My roommate is trying to sleep, so I’ll keep him up if I’m on the phone.” Kuroo sounds apologetic.

“Okay,” Kenma nods. He really doesn’t want Kuroo to hang up because even though he is pathetically sad, Kuroo’s voice is a mild comfort. Once their call has ended, Kenma looks at his messages, where he sees Kuroo’s text: “hey! just checking in. how was the game?” Kenma replies blandly with the brief recount of Nekoma winning the game 2-0. 

Their text conversation is somewhat bland, and definitely uncomforting, sort of like a stiff nurse’s office bed. Meant to nurture, but really just a bit cold. Kenma ends up laying on his side, hair disheveled, and wetness leaking out of his eyes and over his nose. He reminds himself that he is not crying. He is misting.

Kenma notices that it’s past 9:30 in the evening when he hears a knock at his front door. It confuses him, because it’s much too late for his parents to be having guests. He hears his mother greet whoever it is, surprise and joy in her voice. He faintly hears her say “he’s upstairs.” Kenma sits up quickly, wiping his face dry, hoping that he didn’t look like a hopeless mess.

 As he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, Kenma picks up his phone and starts up a game, hoping to feign normalcy. His doorknob turns with no knock, and his heart almost stops. Somehow, suddenly, and shockingly, Kuroo is there, poking his head in. “Kenmaaaaa,” He greets cheerfully as the door swings open.

Kenma’s hands go slack, and he’s not sure if he’s breathing. One thing he’s sure of is, as Kuroo’s cheerful expression fades to a serious one when the door closes, that he is most definitely crying now. Kuroo’s look of worry intensifies, and then he’s sitting on the bed in front of Kenma, reaching for his face.

“Kenma, Kenma, what’s wrong?” Kuroo tries, and Kenma hides his face in his hands. He feels too stupid and embarrassed for crying, and for especially crying in front of Kuroo, something he hadn’t done, not even as children. Kenma feels Kuroo’s hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. Kenma is glad that he isn’t sobbing, because that would just be even more embarrassing. He’s just a little sniffly and hiccup-y. 

Then, Kuroo is kissing the bandaid on Kenma’s knee. Kenma's heart breaks a little more. “Kenma, please.” Kuroo says softly.

Kenma decides that he can’t embarrass himself more, so he talks. He lifts his head up, wiping his cheeks with his fingers. “I miss you,” He mumbles as steadily as he can.

Kuroo frowns with something that looks like regret, and leans forward, putting his arms around Kenma’s shoulders. It’s a bit awkward since they’re sitting on his bed, but it’s still nice. “I miss you too, Kenma.”

“It’s not the same without you. I…” Kenma cuts himself off, shakes his head, blinking through another tear. That one is wiped away by Kuroo’s fingers.

Kuroo leans back, but his hands are on Kenma’s shoulders. Through his tears, Kenma can see that Kuroo looks conflicted. Kuroo takes a deep breath, and looks into Kenma’s eyes. “Do… Do you want me to kiss it?” Kenma doesn’t know what he means; he’s already kissed his knee.

"Sure?"

Kuroo’s hands are warm as they cup Kenma’s warm cheeks, palms maybe a little sweaty, or teary; Kenma can’t tell. He can’t even think about it because a moment later, Kuroo’s lips are on his, soft and sweet just like they had always been; the same but different. Kenma, through his surprise, instinctively kisses back, hands clutching fists of Kuroo’s jacket. 

They kiss for a long time; Kenma doesn’t know how long, but that doesn’t matter. He never wants Kuroo to stop kissing him. The feeling of Kuroo’s lips was not new, but yet it was at the same time. Kuroo’s doing this pecking thing, his lips are kissing again and again but never quite coming off of Kenma’s mouth.

When they do part, Kenma isn't crying anymore. His cheeks are a little flushed.

“Kuro, I…” Kenma leans forward, hiding his face in Kuroo’s shoulder, “I love you.” He finally says it, and it feels good. He can feel Kuroo’s heart beat through his neck.

“I love you too, Kenma.” He can hear the smile on Kuroo's lips.

 For the rest of the night, Kuroo keeps kissing Kenma until he finally smiles, deciding to sleep not long after that. Kenma feels better, the sadness and loneliness had seeped out of him, and Kuroo had filled him up. He feels warm, like sunshine peeking out from clouds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Feel free to follow me on tumblr at http://baka-yama.tumblr.com/
> 
> <3


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